


An elegant solution

by Beleriandings



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Crack, Gen, M/M, haircanons, seriously angsty elves, the cost of standing angstily in high windy places
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-04
Updated: 2016-06-04
Packaged: 2018-07-12 07:24:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7091434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beleriandings/pseuds/Beleriandings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Just because you have a grudge, does not mean you need to stand in the highest, windiest peak and ruin your hair in all weathers."</p>
            </blockquote>





	An elegant solution

“Here, let me” said Fingon, picking up the brush that Maedhros had thrown onto the bed in frustration.

Maedhros submitted to Fingon gently sweeping the brush through his hair with a little growl of frustration. “This would be much easier to do myself if I had two hands.” Maedhros froze, then, as if realising that his words may sound like an accusation. “No, Finno, I didn’t mean…”

“Psh” said Fingon, gently detangling a lock of hair that had become hopelessly knotted. “It’s nothing to do with hands, or brushes. Your hair wouldn’t get _nearly_ so tangled if you didn’t stand out there all the time, gazing off dramatically in the distance.”

Maedhros flushed a little. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Rubbish. I’m convinced that standing on a high place gazing out in resentment is a family trait. Macalaurë is terrible for the needless drama, but you…” he shook his head, starting on a new lock of hair. “You turn it into an art form. Just because you have a grudge, does not mean you need to stand in the highest, windiest peak and ruin your hair in all weathers.”

“I consider myself a guardkeeper” said Maedhros, with as much dignity as he could. “From the moment I ceded the kingship you your father, my life had one purpose, and that was to defend against the - ow! Finno, that hurt!”

“Sorry!” Fingon relented hastily, before picking up the brush again and starting to untangle a new lock of hair, resolutely. “But you brought this on yourself, I’m afraid.”

“Ai, but I could never live elsewhere. Then who would stand between - ”

“Who would stand between Morgoth and all the rest of our people but the proud, battle-hardened, world-weary folk of Himring, yes, yes I know.”

“……It’s a valid question” said Maedhros, a little defensively. 

“I’m sure it is.” Fingon laid down the brush and turned Maedhros’ head around gently, beginning to divide the thick red locks into sections for braiding. “But it’s not the right one.”

Maedhros sighed resignedly, as Fingon ran his fingers through his hair. He was enjoying this, despite himself. “What, then is the _right_ question?”

“It is, my dear cousin, why take the most difficult route? If you want to stand in the wind, and look fierce, or ravishingly intimidating, or whatever you are trying to achieve - ”

“ _Ravishingly intimidating_? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Hey, that at least was a compliment! But if you truly must freeze your remaining extremities off standing out there on that chilly balcony looking north then at least take the simple solution that the rest of use to keep our hair untangled.”

“And what is that?”

“Just braid your hair. Why do you think I kept it like this all these years, hmm?”

Maedhros was silent for a moment, as though looking at Fingon in a new light. “That’s why…”

“Well… yes. Why restrain myself in staring off to the North in a howling gale when I can look _this good_ , and be practical at the same time?”

Maedhros found himself agreeing, actually. “Fin, you know I can’t braid my hair” he said, sternly. 

“Well” said Fingon, tying off the first braid and slipping beside Maedhros’ ear to whisper close to it. “Then if you want to achieve your ‘ _grim stoic Lord of the Frozen North_ ’ look and still maintain shiny, beautiful hair with no split ends, you’ll just need to keep me around with you throughout the winter season, won’t you?”


End file.
